They are wrong.  I love God as much today while my days are spent trying to potty train my son to no avail as I did when I pored myself into youth.  I pray as much as before.  I still read the Bible.  And God still loves me.  Just as much.  Just the way I am.  Even on my native soil.

All too often we get hung up on someone’s position, especially if it pertains to something within the church.  In no way am I trying to disregard the hard work of pastors, elders or missionaries.  Peter Drucker, the late leadership guru, said that being a pastor is one of the four hardest jobs in America.  I personally know some of the hardships of serving overseas.  I hold elders in the utmost respect, who work at their full-time jobs and then diligently help meet the needs within their churches and communities.  They aren’t easy tasks, yet neither is living out Colossians 3:17 while collecting trash, fighting corruption or scrubbing toilets. 

This same leveling of the playing field is seen in the beginning of the letter to the Philippians. 

I am writing to all of God’s holy people in Philippi who belong to Christ Jesus, including the elders and deacons.” Philippians 1:1

All of God’s holy people.  If “holy people” is too overwhelming for you, simply think of it according to The Message’s interpretation: “all the followers of Jesus.” This isn’t intended solely for the church leadership or the ultra-Christian (whatever that faulty notion might mean).  Matthew Henry says it best in his commentary on the whole Bible.  “It is directed to all the saints, one as well as another, even the meanest, the poorest, and those of the least gifts. Christ makes no difference; the rich and the poor meet together in him.” 

Don’t dismiss a single word in the book of Philippians by rationalizing that it was written solely for those higher up in church leadership.  That simply is not true.  I can’t wait to meet here with the rich, poor, mean, ugly, married, single, divorced, mother, janitor, lawyer and everything in between as together we study this incredible book.

Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6

Fireworks will soon fill the skies.  They will mark freedom, reminding us of what once was and allowing us to savor what now is.

Over the next several months, we’ll be studying the book of Philippians.  Today I viewed it for the first time as a book of freedom.  It, along with the entire Scriptures, provides the hope, source and keys to the freedom of living a meaningless life devoted to self.  During the remainder of the year, we’ll get to learn how to be free from:

• Living loveless lives (Phil. 1:9)
• Cowardice and fearfulness (Phil. 1:14)
• Discontentment (Phil. 2:2)
• A lack of joy (Phil. 3)
• Pride (Phil. 2:6,7)
• Complaining and arguing (Phil. 2:14)
• Anxiety (Phil. 4:6)

A friend was challenged to read the entire book of Philippians four times daily for a month.  She started skeptically, but soon found herself waiting for the next ay she’d ingest the four chapters of God’s word.  In thirty days, her life changed.  She’d open her mouth to grumble, then recall Phil. 2:14 and change the subject.  She stopped meditating on the things that worried or troubled her and began focusing on things that are true, noble, lovely and praiseworthy.  By the end of the month, she was still unemployed and there were still real-world issues that infiltrated her life, yet her countenance demonstrated one profound change: freedom. 

Let it ring in our lives, too.

2,000 years after his death, Jesus still stands trial.  If you cared, you wouldn’t allow me to suffer, I protest, asking the Lord of the Universe to defend his stance on my current circumstances.  In other courtrooms, the claims aired are “if you really loved me, you would _______  (give me a better job, make me more beautiful, or cure me of cancer).  If you really are in control of the world, then why did you let innocent children die in a natural disaster?”

Will we, like Pilate, “find no basis for a charge against this man” (Luke 23:4), yet make a final ruling to dismiss him from our lives?  Our will we allow the doubts and questions to draw us into an honest conversation with God and discover that we just might find the very thing we’ve been looking for?

The same is true of the content of Luke 23.  The Easter season allows me to slow down and reflect on Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice for me.  I’m overcome with emotion in March and April at the thought of a perfect, sinless man dying to cleanse me of my filth.  And yet the overwhelming awe of Christ’s crucifixion tends to melt away with the last batch of snow.  By the hot, sunny months, I’m back to barging into the gates of heaven with my prayer requests before stopping to humbly and gratefully say thanks.

This sudden, temporary change of seasons beckons me to recall the most amazing gift offered to mankind.

When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left.  Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”  Luke 23:33,34

Jesus, thank you so very much for loving me enough to forfeit the wonders of heaven to walk on this earth, knowing we would reject and crucify you.  I’m amazed that even in your most agonizing moment you forgave.  Teach me to do the same and please help me daily remember the pain you suffered on my behalf.  Amen.

King Swafta owned the vineyard.  One day, he decided to send a servant to the Swoonots.  The king wanted his share of the crops, but more importantly, he had the cure to the Swoonots’ lethal disease.  But the last thing the Swoonots wanted to hear was how to live in order to prevent death, and they especially didn’t want to share what was rightfully the king’s.

“Let’s beat the servant,” they said.  And they did.

King Swafta sent a second and a third servant, who both met the same fate.

“What shall I do"?” King Swafta asked.  “I will send my son, whom I love; perhaps they will respect him.”

But when the Swoonots saw the prince, they said, “This is the heir.  Let’s kill him and the inheritance will be ours.”  So they threw him out of the vineyard and. . .

hung him on a cross.

I, too, like the Swoonots of Luke 20:9-16, am living on rented land.  Everything I have and everything I’m capable of has been given to me by King Swafta.  God.  Am I willing to share the crops of my life with God, or will I horde them, believing I am the one who makes the fruits in my life grow?  I also suffer from a deadly disease: sin.  If left untreated, it will separate me from God, forever, and cause my death.

Will I allow the Prince into my vineyard and trust him with my life, or will I, too, throw him out?

One day, Jesus was teaching his disciples about forgiveness.  Their response?  "Increase our faith!" (Luke 17:5). 

Isn’t that something?  These were the guys who walked with Jesus, got to spend day after day with him.  Surely they had faith.  Probably just like my daughter has countless Barbies in her room but still isn’t satisfied.  They, too, wanted more of something they already had: faith. 

I can understand their request (and often imitate it myself), yet am stumped at their timing.  After all, Jesus was teaching about forgiveness, not faith.  Their petition seems so out of context.  I’m quick to ask for more faith when the swell of life’s worries and trials are about to overtake me, but during the day-to-day mundane?  Well, that’s quite a different story.

Oswald Chambers wrote My Utmost for His Highest, a beautiful collection of devotionals.  On June 5th he says, “Neither will I in any wise forsake thee” (Hebrews 13:5).  Sometimes it is not difficulty that makes me think God will forsake me, but drudgery. There is no Hill Difficulty to climb, no vision given, nothing wonderful or beautiful, just the commonplace day in and day out—can I hear God’s say-so (God reminding me that he will never leave me nor forsake me) in these things?”

It is harder for me to live by faith during the run-of-the mill than the strenuous.  I cling desperately to God when times are rough, yet am quick to go my own way during the calm.  I struggle to remember that God created me for a purpose, especially when my days are filled by changing diapers, watching Barney and waiting in the carpool line.  It is only when I  ask for more faith that I find a new enjoyment in my everyday routines.

Maybe the disciples request wasn’t so out of context. 

Lord, increase our faith.